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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24858592">23:22</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonightless/pseuds/tonightless'>tonightless</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Finite Anthology: 100 Prompts ∞ [Merlin/Arthur] [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, London, M/M, Modern Era</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24858592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonightless/pseuds/tonightless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who did this to you?” Before Merlin could stop him Arthur had reached out and tipped Merlin’s face into a patch of light on the corridor. His touch was painfully soft, but Arthur’s mouth tightened into a thin line and the fury in his eyes was so undeserved that Merlin forgot to protest that he wasn’t a damsel in distress.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Finite Anthology: 100 Prompts ∞ [Merlin/Arthur] [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/57956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kink Me Merlin Non-anonymous Fills</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>23:22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <sub>For the KMM prompt <a href="https://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/36351.html?thread=40461567">here</a>.</sub>
</p><p>  <sub>And for Prompt #45: Steady.</sub></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>“Can you let me up?” His voice was muffled by the last of his tissues pressed against his bloody nose but Arthur recognised him anyway.</p><p>“Merlin? What’re you doing here?”</p><p>Merlin shrank wordlessly into his coat. His head ached and his hand itched to swat at the <em>bzzz </em>of the intercom as though that would banish the dismaying realisation that Arthur had been the first person who came to mind when he’d been left reeling on the pavement.</p><p>“Fucking hell, I’ll just go.”</p><p>He’d already turned on his heel when the door clicked.</p><p>“Fourth floor.”</p><p>Merlin hovered for a second, and then grit his teeth and shouldered into the too-hot foyer before the door locked – before he’d change his mind and loiter, seething and scared, on the steps to Arthur’s.</p><p>The last time he’d been in Arthur’s flat was at New Year’s. At first he’d thought Arthur’s invitation had been a joke. Then he’d dragged Will along so he could witness Arthur for himself and they get sloshed on the fancy wine, and Will dived into a spectacularly one-sided argument with Arthur about the monarchy while Arthur leant against the wall and tried not to laugh.       </p><p>That had been ages ago, anyway. Now he was back with a black eye and a nosebleed and Arthur was intolerable, arrogant, and, Merlin told himself fiercely when he pounded on the door, a stubborn arse. Except when the door swung open, the soft light of the flat illuminated Arthur’s hair like a halo and his wary eyes widened.</p><p>“Who did this to you?” Before Merlin could stop him Arthur had reached out and tipped Merlin’s face into a patch of light on the corridor. His touch was painfully soft, but Arthur’s mouth tightened into a thin line and the fury in his eyes was so undeserved that Merlin forgot to protest that he wasn’t a damsel in distress. Arthur was terrifying and terrifyingly <em>hot</em> in that moment, until his face softened and he said:</p><p>“Let’s get you cleaned up.”</p><p>“No jokes about my ineptitude?”</p><p>But Arthur had already vanished.</p><p>As best he could, Merlin shrugged out of his coat and tossed it at the closest hook. It missed, and after looking down at it resignedly he stepped over it into the living room. It hadn’t changed much – silently ostentatious in its size and far too neat to belong to anyone who wasn’t a cyborg. Merlin tossed his bloody tissues in the bin, suddenly surly.</p><p>He found Arthur in the kitchen, rinsing out two mugs for tea.</p><p>“Who did this to you?” Arthur asked again, but he didn’t look up from drying the mugs. Merlin half-wondered if that fury had abated.</p><p>“They punched me, obviously.”</p><p>“Tell me.” It was bitten out in a rush and Arthur’s face was overcome by a war of anger and worry, and his head was lifting when Merlin dropped his gaze and jerked his shoulders in a stiff shrug.</p><p>“Didn’t really see. It was dark, and…” he waved at his eye, “then they whacked me. Got my phone.”</p><p>“But you’re alright?”</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” Merlin all but spat. He was viciously pleased when blood began to drip anew out of his nose, except the way Arthur hissed out a startled <em>fuck</em> and seized the kitchen roll and pressed sheets of it into Merlin’s hands was – disarming. Arthur wasn't operating like he usually did when Merlin goaded him, and Merlin really hated it. “At least there’s no blood around your eye. Sit there – the countertop isn’t a chair, <em>Mer</em>lin, fuck’s sake.”</p><p>Arthur’s expression flashed from concern to irritation and he whirled away and yanked open the freezer. He wrapped a bag of frozen peas in a tea towel that was a little grimy with coffee grounds and tossed the resulting package at Merlin, who only just managed to catch it with one hand.</p><p>“Arse.” Merlin pressed it against the swelling and just managed to bite back a wince. Sat on Arthur’s counter with a football-sized ice pack and a wad of kitchen roll held against his face wasn't how he’d envisioned his evening, but the kitchen roll gradually grew less and less bloody. A glass of water and two Ibuprofen appeared at Merlin’s side when he drew the wad of it away from his nose.</p><p>“Fucking finally,” Merlin grumbled when Arthur poured water onto the teabags. Arthur only glared at him for his trouble and snatched the bloody kitchen roll and binned it. They sat in silence while the tea brewed, and after a few minutes Arthur took Merlin’s sinfully sweet, milky tea order with nothing more than a disgusted expression. Funny, Merlin thought, how they had nothing to talk about when there was a new, implicit rule that they had to be nice. If he hadn’t been struck on the right side of his head the bag of peas would have hidden Arthur from view, and he wouldn’t have to stare at a spot on the ceiling to keep from glancing over at him.</p><p>Eventually, Arthur cleared his throat.</p><p>“So what brought you to Kensington?”</p><p><em>The 27 bus</em>, Merlin thought, already feeling nauseous at the hellish, panicked ride here, but Arthur was peering at him over the rim of his mug and it was easier to lie.</p><p>“Gwen said there was a restaurant we should check out. In the area.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me it was Parabola. Did she recommend it as a joke?”</p><p>“No, a different one. Can’t remember the name.” Merlin waved his free hand. “Something Spanish.”</p><p>“Sounds like Cambio de Tercio.” The Spanish rolled easily off Arthur’s tongue and Merlin resolved that anyone would have spared him a bag of peas and some kitchen roll, not just insufferable Arthur. “She spoiled you then.”</p><p>“That’s Gwen.” Merlin sounded strained even to his own ears and Arthur was still cataloguing his every move. “Uh – look, can I borrow your phone?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course.” Arthur handed over a slab that was closer to the size of a small book than a phone, and Merlin lowered himself from the countertop and dumped the peas with an annoyed thud before he deigned to take it.</p><p>He wandered over to the window at the far end of the living room before looking at Arthur’s wallpaper – a photo of some castle in the middle of nowhere. It was kind of sweet, if only because Merlin had expected a motivational quote about the grind, or something just as pretentious.</p><p>To Will he sent:</p><p>
  <em>Lost phone but dw. All ok. Back later.</em>
</p><p>Will’s reply was instantaneous: <em>what you not telling me?</em></p><p>Merlin returned a row of <em>xxxxx</em> because it was easier than explaining the whole bloody palaver – let alone how an emotionally repressed ponce was calming his nerves. Then, to avoid having to talk to Arthur, he googled the Parabola and had to stop himself from making a face once he’d scanned the menu. Of course Arthur would know about a restaurant that offered ox tongue with <em>sauce gibriche</em>. He peered back into the kitchen; Arthur’s features were marred by a frown and he was staring unseeingly at the kitchen island, with its books and highlighters and gleaming MacBook. He looked tired. A glance at Arthur’s phone told him it was 23:22.</p><p>Merlin slunk back into the lamplight, tossed Arthur’s phone onto a stack of Russian books, and reclaimed the bag of peas. Arthur, meanwhile, was looking pointedly away at a throng of plants on the windowsill. Only then did Merlin register Arthur’s t-shirt: black, with <em>HOPELESS IN LOVE </em>curving above Buckingham Palace which was superimposed on the Disney castle, and below that there was the date of – was that the <em>royal wedding</em>?</p><p>“Her Majesty would sooner be trampled by her own guard than have that as official merchandise.”</p><p>The corner of Arthur’s mouth twitched upwards.</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>“You watch it on the telly with tea and crumpets?”</p><p>“Like you didn’t tune in to see the dress,” Arthur said, distracted but flippant all the same. Merlin wished he didn’t have the urge to ghost his own fingers on Arthur’s face and smooth his frown away – and to discard that traitorous thought he manoeuvred himself back onto the countertop.</p><p>“Well, I—”</p><p>“Stop talking shit, Merlin, or I’m confiscating your peas.”</p><p>“And there I was thinking you were chivalrous. You realise I’m wounded, don’t you?”</p><p>“Helping you isn’t <em>chivalrous</em>, idiot, it’s common decency.”</p><p>“‘Common decency’ is exactly what someone trapped in another century would say.”</p><p>“You’re an ungrateful brat.” And, with a loose shrug, Arthur reached for his phone just as it pinged. He drew back, body side-on to Merlin, and his face was carefully neutral in the glow of the screen until his free hand fished out a takeaway menu from somewhere among the books. “No tikka masala for you.”</p><p>“Lamb vindaloo with garlic naan, actually. Two garlic naans. And extra chutney. And poppadums.”</p><p>Arthur gave him a withering look. Merlin just peered at him with his good eye.</p><p>“Don’t cook?”</p><p>“Been studying.” Arthur gestured at the books, pens, and laptop. Merlin made a noise and Arthur said “Russian and German,” like Merlin actually cared. Which he did. “Are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? A friend, the police…?”</p><p>Merlin’s hand tightened around the peas. “’M good, thanks.”</p><p>He took a steadying breath that Arthur catalogued, and how <em>Arthur</em> of all people was easing him out of panic – well. At least Arthur also seemed at a loss. Once he’d ordered their food he began clearing rubbish from his workspace.</p><p>“I’ve got a spare you can have.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Arthur collected some Twix wrappers. “A spare phone.”</p><p>“Will I be able to turn it on?”</p><p>“I’m sure it’s not beyond you.” Arthur threw the rubbish in the bin. “Stop being a dick. I know making fun of me is your normal and that’s probably relieving, but it’s not a price I’m going to pay for helping you. It’s tedious and I’m trying to be nice.”</p><p>Merlin stared at his back. “Prat.”</p><p>He slunk away into the living space, well aware that Arthur was right – were his mother here, she’d be giving him an earful – and he sunk onto the sofa and watched TV until Arthur appeared with their tea.</p><p>“You should sit with your head back,” Arthur said, setting the mugs on the coffee table. “Help slow the bleeding. Also? We’re not watching this.”</p><p>“It’s a classic.”</p><p>“I don’t care.”</p><p>“It’s got Audrey Hepburn in it!”</p><p>“Still don’t care.”</p><p>“I thought you’d be a man of culture.” It came out as a whine, and Merlin flung the peas in Arthur’s direction. “If it bothers you that much, whack those on your face. Clotpole.”</p><p>Arthur relented only in that he tossed the peas back. “You’re injured and it’s addling your mind. You’re lucky that I’ll tolerate it.”</p><p>Within half an hour the food had arrived, and they ate in silence.</p><p>“Thank you,” Merlin said at some point, once the tea towel around the peas was soaked and he had to set them down, and Arthur just shrugged. Then:</p><p>“Why did you come here?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“You’re a shitty liar.” Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You realise I’m friends with Lance, right?”</p><p>Bugger. The anniversary dinner.</p><p>“I remembered the address.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth, either, and Merlin closed his eyes despite the pain and tried to ignore how Arthur was a weight next to him that was already too familiar. His hands curled further around the mug of cold tea he held like a shield and he finally muttered: “And, yeah, I guess you’re not entirely insufferable.”</p><p>When Merlin dared look over at him, Arthur looked half-amused, half-irritated, and then he huffed in a way that was almost <em>fond</em>, and his arm – stretched behind Merlin’s shoulders on the sofa – moved a little lower. Merlin shrugged away, and <em>God</em> it really wasn’t worth it for the tiny, tiny way the muscle in Arthur’s jaw tensed.</p><p>“Yeah, well, you’re not that good at trying to be nice,” Arthur said lightly, but it took a while for them to relax again. Arthur’s hand still rested against the cushions, and before Merlin could stop himself he tugged Arthur’s hand onto his chest and did not let go.</p><p>An ambulance went past, siren fading in and out of the night.</p><p>“Wouldn’t’ve predicted a boat neckline,” Merlin said eventually. “And I thought she’d have some lace somewhere. Like Kate did.”</p><p>Arthur didn’t reply, but he smirked out of the corner of Merlin’s good eye. Then the credits were rolling and Merlin’s grip tightened on Arthur’s hand and Arthur said:</p><p>“You’re not entirely insufferable either, you know. In fact – I think you’re adorable.”</p><p>“You mean—” Merlin’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. “But I’m vile.”</p><p>“I’m aware,” Arthur said dryly. “You’re an incorrigible bastard.”</p><p>“Fuck you very much.”</p><p>“You do have some positive attributes.”</p><p>“Yeah, wow, that’s making me weak at the knees—”</p><p>Then Arthur leant in and Merlin’s breath caught in his lungs, because in the flickering light of the TV Arthur was mesmeric. Then, with a gleam in his eye that had <em>no right</em> to make Merlin’s chest tighten, he said:</p><p>“I like your ears.”</p><p>Merlin stared wildly at him for a moment, but Arthur was deathly serious, and although it hurt his head he snorted.</p><p>“You’re a creep.”</p><p>Somehow, it came out fond, and later Merlin would fall asleep in the warmth and shelter of Arthur’s arms.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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